


Five times that Lanie Parish noticed Javier Esposito and one time he returned the favor

by muselives



Category: Castle (TV 2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-25
Updated: 2010-04-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22292692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muselives/pseuds/muselives
Summary: Events slowly bring together Lanie and Esposito.
Relationships: Javier Esposito/Lanie Parish
Kudos: 5





	Five times that Lanie Parish noticed Javier Esposito and one time he returned the favor

**Author's Note:**

> [2020-01-17 author's note] Reposted. No new edits.
> 
> [original 2010-04-25 author's note] After Den of Thieves, I wanted to write about Esposito and I ship Lanie/Esposito so this felt like a fun way to do it. I'm a big fan of the "five and one" format although coming up with the final scene was trickier than I thought it would be. It was really fun to discover Lanie's voice :) Spoilers through the second season. Beta courtesy of ~chichuri.

**the first time.**  
Some people think Esposito has a thing for Beckett and that just makes Lanie laugh. Sure, the guy follows Kate around but that's because he thinks she needs looking after. And of course, he's surprised when his fellow detective turns it around and gives him as good as she's got.

And that's how she knows that Esposito is a touch old-fashioned. He doesn't open the door for women and he stops acting like Kate can't kick down her own, but the story eventually makes it down to autopsy when he's a little too rough bringing in a suspect after, in his own words, "The kid grabbed Beckett's ass."

That's how she knows when she sees him the next morning and their eyes meet briefly that Javier Esposito is one of those kind of romantics: the kind who defends a woman's honor, even when he knows she doesn't really need him to.

 **the second time.**  
They all have different reactions to Castle, all colored in varying degrees by Kate's reaction to the writer who often acts like a child. Lanie likes Castle off the bat, likes his books, like how he gets under her friend's skin. She can tell that Esposito and Ryan need him to prove himself just like any rookie cop before they accept him.

She knows that Esposito won't let Castle have an easy pass at Kate if they're going to be on the job together but she can tell that from his self-made seat as the team's big brother, he approves of the writer. Not that Castle shoots himself in the foot by bringing in the espresso machine either.

And on one occasion when there are donuts in the breakroom, she notices Esposito take stock of the plate while he fills up his cup. When she tells him to take one, he grins and feeds her some line about keeping his figure.

But the next time she goes by his desk, she sees a half-eaten plain donut with dark coffee seeped into the bitten off ends. So she takes a mental note and the next time she hears Mayweather say he's bringing in donuts she asks him to pick out a few with nothing on them. "Good for dunking," she tells Mayweather, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise as Esposito steps out of her blind spot then casually walks away.

 **the third time.**  
He comes into autopsy with a slight swagger and when she fixes him with a questioning stare, he informs her, "I've come to collect."

"On the wager?" She bluffs, "I've got until sundown."

"Beckett's already on her way home and Castle's having dinner with his daughter."

Forgetting her cool, Lanie allows herself to mutter a quick curse which only gains a wolfish grin from Esposito. "It's not funny! They cleaned you out, too!"

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who was 'absolutely sure' they'd be together by now." The detective came closer and hooks his thumbs on his pockets, clearly enjoying his moment.

"Ryan has my IOU."

Still grinning, Esposito pulled a folded slip of paper from his pocket.

She considers him for a moment. He's come down to her turf to serve her with the IOU she made out to Ryan and he looks like the cat that ate the canary. "You asked Ryan if you could do this," she realizes aloud, causing a second light bulb to go off. "This is because I bet on them on that double homicide, isn't it?"

"No, I knew you'd bet on Beckett. She's your girl."

He delivers the words like he has to say them, knowing it's the truth but still wishing she'd shown a little more faith in him. This final little revelation she makes sure to keep off her face. Instead, she rolls her eyes and tells him, "You know I don't have that kind of money on me right now."

"I know." He's still amused but calmer now that the joke has played out. "Ryan said to let you know you can put off the collection if you want to go double in for another date."

She looks at him for another moment then pretends to busy herself with one of her charts. "Tell him I'm still in."

"Cool," Eposito grabs a pen from the mug on her desk. "When should I put you down for?"

Without looking at him, she shrugs and walks by. "You pick a date," she says as she passes by, calling over her shoulder as she leaves, "I'm in for an arm, might as well add a leg." She doesn't have to look back to know she's surprised him. In fact, she doesn't risk looking back, just in case he might catch her secretive smile.

 **the fourth time.**  
By the time she sees him coming through the door in autopsy, Kate's already filled her in on the connection between Ike Thorton and Epsosito.

"Hey," she says softly. He doesn't seem to notice her at first, just makes his way over to the body. She wants to ask him if he's okay, if he knows what she knows, but of course he does otherwise he wouldn't be down here.

When he looks up from Finch's body, she can tell he's trying to lose himself in the job. He wants to look the victim in the face and tell himself it doesn't matter who killed him because its his job to bring that killer to justice.

But this killer was his partner. A friend. A ghost.

She opens her mouth to ask him if he needs anything, to offer him some coffee, she's not exactly sure but he cuts her off with a brief, "I'm fine. Got to go take a poly."

"A polygraph?" She doesn't even hear the sharpness in her own voice until she follows up with, "What the hell for?"

And for a moment the mask slips. She sees that he's truly touched by her offense on his behalf, her ire at someone questioning his word.

"I.A. likes me for a dirty cop," he says, trying to get back that professional face. "Holliwell keeps dogging after me, maybe the poly will get him off my back."

"Or get his head out of his ass," she retorts, trying to reign in the bite of her tone.

He laughs at that and then he's all cop again. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this," he says. To himself, to Paul Finch, to her, she doesn't know who he's trying to convince.

Maybe it's out of line but when he passes, she reaches out and catches his arm. He slows to a halt for a moment and they don't look at each other as she gives him a slight squeeze. Without words, she withdraws just as he starts moving again, and only after his footsteps fade down the corridor does the morgue fill with the sound of her steady beating heart.

 **the fifth time.**  
"This is a bad idea."

"What," Esposito looks hurt, "You think I'm going to step on your feet?"

Lanie fixes him with a look. "No, I think I'm going to rip my dress. Don't laugh," she warns, noticing the immediate transformation now that he knows he's not the one in trouble, "It's not mine. And it's a little tight."

"Didn't notice."

He's still standing at her side and she's more aware now of the light jazz music and the sound of whispered conversations from the dance floor. When she drops her gaze, she sees his hand, open, making the same offer without any words. Before she can second guess herself, she takes it.

She's in two minds about her decision as they waltz slowly across the floor. The low cut of the back of her dress means that Esposito's slightly calloused hand is resting directly against her skin. It's not the roughness of his skin, she finds, but its warmth that's giving her butterflies. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), he's a respectful, competent dancer, leading her across the floor without treading over her feet or trying anything fancy that might put her, her dress, or her pride in any danger. Even after he gives her a little turn and she curls back in a little too close, he gently restores the distance as they dance.

At the end of the night, the butterflies seem calmed but she can still feel their presence, just the slight play of nerves as the evening draws to a close. Kate is the one who offers her a lift home. Seeing Esposito, Ryan, and Castle caught up in conversation a stone's throw away, Lanie hides her disappointment with a smile and accepts.

Only later while she's brushing her teeth, looking at the reflection of the dress as it hangs from her bathroom door, does she tell herself, "Girl, you should have just showed some spine and kissed that prince goodnight."

 **the tables turned.**  
She's working late when Esposito comes in with a latte in hand. "Here," he says and when he sets it beside her the faint smell of cinnamon makes her nose tingle. Her face must betray her shock because he smirks as he takes the edge of her desk as a seat. "All this time together and you think I didn't notice how you take your coffee?"

The teasing note of his question makes her smile. "Alright, detective, I'm duly impressed. Your observational skills are top notch."

As she reaches for the cup, he places his hand over hers. Her heart jumps into her throat at the touch.

"I just want to ask you something first."

She lifts her eyes. He's staring at her, completely focused on what she will say. All she can do is nod slightly: go on.

"Did I miss my chance?" Her eyes widen and he barrels on. "That night, Castle's fancy party, I saw you before you left. I didn't know why you looked upset. I didn't even realize," his words trails off and he leaves the rest unformed. His gaze drops and he pulls back his hand, clearing his throat as if to unsettle what he must leave unsaid, to expel it however he can without giving it real form.

Lanie still has nothing to say. She's already withdrawn her hand to safety, granting it refuge in its partner's clasp as she tries to rub away the sensation of his touch.

Seeking a similar end, his hand smooths his jeans self-consciously before he stands. "Well, enjoy the latte," he murmurs as he turns to go. His tone is almost perfect, almost natural, but she can detect the embarrassment there from being vulnerable, even for just those few seconds.

Her voice bursts forth before he reaches the door. "The answer is no." She fights a feeling of heat in her cheeks when he turns back to look at her, fixes her with a thoughtful smile. "No, you didn't miss your chance."

His hand rises, sways back and forth in the air, before it settles on the door frame. He uses this brace to pivot back towards her. "Is that a fact?" he asks, fighting the beginnings of a smile.

Lanie makes a little assuring noise. "But the window's closing fast," she adds.

His hand returns to his hip, thumb hooking the pocket of his jeans. Relaxed. "Do I have a couple of days?"

"Probably." Her arms fold and she gives him her best warning stare. "I wouldn't wait too long."

Nodding slowly, he turns again. "I'll see what I can do." The smile wins out as he adds, "Enjoy your coffee, Dr. Parish."

"Have a good night, Esposito," she calls after him as he disappears through the door. She leans on her chair to try and catch a glimpse of him but he's already gone. Reaching for the cinnamon latte, she let's herself smile. "And that," she tells her coffee with great satisfaction before she takes the first sip, "Is how it's done."


End file.
